


Look into Your Eyes and the Sky's the Limit

by Acantha_Echo



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Lovers, Fighting, Human AU, M/M, OC bad guy - Freeform, Roman is a dramatic boy, and doesn't wanna deal with the weirdo across the hall, patton supports his friend, powers, powers au, roman is on a mission, virgil is tired and confused, why won't people listen to him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26112589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acantha_Echo/pseuds/Acantha_Echo
Summary: Roman has a pretty good life. A decent job, good friends, a nice apartment. Pretty much the only thing ruining it is his neighbour. A gloomy, depressing looking, grumpy sounding emo called Virgil, someone Roman is convinced is the absolute worst.He might have fooled the general public. He might have fooled the people they live with. He might even have fooled Roman’s friends.But Roman knows the truth - Virgil is a demon, is evil, and Roman won’t rest until he proves it, once and for all.The reality isn’t exactly as clear cut.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders
Comments: 83
Kudos: 211





	1. The Elephant is in the Room

**Author's Note:**

> A while ago I posted a list of prompts on my tumblr, asking for suggestions and pairings. It will be a nice change of pace, I thought. Write a little one shot. I thought. Ha. So, this is the first of the answers. 
> 
> Sparrow-flies-south sent in the prompt; _‘Remember how I told you my neighbour was demonic? Well... apparently said neighbour is actually an angel instead.’_ with romantic prinxiety. I’ve... kept the spirit of the prompt at least. I had a lot of fun with Roman in this story, I hope you enjoy, please let me know if you do! 
> 
> Huge thanks go to **Listenerofshadows** , who very kindly stepped in to beta this and basically saved it from run on sentences, which I’m really prone to. 
> 
> Also, big thanks to **jitteryglittery** , who helped me find story and chapter titles after I said I was stuck and just had _Hamilton_ lyrics in my head. Because I’ve been listening to a lot of _Hamilton_ lately. As you can probably tell. Story title is from **Helpless** and the chapter title is from **Right Hand Man.**

** **

### The Elephant is in the Room

** **

“I’m telling you Patton, he’s evil! The devil incarnate!” Roman waved his arms around as he spoke for added emphasis, almost punching the air.

Patton, to his great disappointment, barely reacted beyond a soft and somewhat distracted hum. His friend seemed instead far more interested in the blanket fort he was building on Roman’s couch. And yes, that was a worthy endeavour, a very noble cause indeed. But not if it meant he didn’t listen to Roman’s warnings properly. There was a monster in the building and nobody seemed willing to believe him. Not even his nearest and dearest. Roman snapped his fingers a couple of times, the noise making Patton look up from where he had just dumped the latest blanket. 

“Patton, focus. He’s out there right now. For all we know, he’s lurking at my front door, with his little emo ear pressed against it, listening. Getting information on me.”

“Why would Virgil do tha-”

“Shush!” Roman jumped across the room, his hand finding Patton’s mouth and covering it firmly. “Don’t say his name! You might summon him!”

The pair stood in silence for a couple of moments, Patton patiently staring at Roman while he scanned his living room. There didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary. No hint that darkness had spread beyond his door. There wasn’t any sound in the hallway which meant he didn’t have to deal with that dark low laugh or the knowing look he would see in Virgil’s eyes. Whenever he could be bothered to actually meet Roman’s gaze of course. It seemed as though they had gotten away with it this time, Roman exhaling softly and pulling his hand away once more. 

“As for why he would listen, it's because he _knows_ I’m onto him. I’m a threat and I bet he is just waiting, biding his time. Plotting his evil plots.”

“I think you’re overreacting kiddo,” Patton remarked. He turned away to add another couple of blankets to what had once been Roman’s couch. It was impossible to see the red cushions of it anymore, it was so heavily covered in them. With a nod of satisfaction, he clapped his hands together and finally - _finally_ \- allowed his full focus to return to Roman. Where it belonged. 

“I talked to him and he seemed like a nice, shy kid. Sure a little strange and dark, but hardly evil.”

“I still can’t believe you talked to him. Betrayed me like that.” Roman’s lips twisted into a pouty sulk as he thought back to the moment when he had seen Patton come out of Virgil’s apartment. It had been a great disappointment to hear from Patton that it looked just like a normal apartment. Then again, that was probably just what he wanted people to think. “What if he got to you. Brainwashed you or whatever?” 

Patton was really not the best person to talk to about this kind of thing. Patton tended to see the best in everyone and everything, regardless of the reality. Of course he would think that Roman’s weird demonic neighbour across the hall was just a misunderstood emo. 

Then again, everyone else in his friend group had vetoed any conversations about Virgil months ago. Patton was the only one willing to even half listen to him and that was still better than nothing. At least he got some of his thoughts out into the world rather than leave them strewing in his mind for longer.

“I hardly betrayed you. I wanted to meet the person you are always talking about, can you blame me?” Patton took a step back and examined his work carefully. It had become something of a weekly tradition for the two of them to take turns to meet up at each other’s apartments and spend the evening in a blanket fort while consuming both popcorn and a mountain of movies. Roman had even learnt to allow Patton to pick his own choices without messing with the vote too blatantly - it was hard to rig a vote with two people. Patton would have probably let him choose the movie every time if he had asked but that wasn’t fair. Then again, that was his best friend all round. He’d give everything he had and more besides. 

“Yes, I can. Or rather, I blame myself. What if something had happened to you? If that fiend had gotten his claws into you? I could never forgive myself!” Roman lifted a hand to his forehead and although he might say it lightly now, he considered it a very real possibility. His friends might think he was just being dramatic or ridiculous. They might think his tales were just another one of his inventions but Roman knew the truth. He knew exactly what Virgil was. 

He had _seen_ it. 

Nobody else knew. Nobody believed him. 

“He didn’t kiddo. I’m fine. And I have to say, I can understand why you’re so... enthusiastic about him.”

“You can?” Roman didn’t even bother to hide the excitement and hope in his voice. Maybe Patton had seen something after all. Something that while he still refused to believe was evidence that Virgil was a demon, was enough to make him realise that just for once, Roman hadn’t been exaggerating about how different he was. How evil, but some part of Roman was pretty sure that you could show Patton a murderer and he would still find some positive qualities about him.

“Sure! He’s funny and kind and has that smile you’re always going on about. And he likes cats! I’m not surprised you like him.”

“Wait. Record scratch?” At this moment, there was little he could do but copy his brother’s favourite surprised comment. Channelling Remus was how he got through some of his more... troublesome moments in his job and personal life. Although he would rather die than admit to Remus that. He didn’t want the fool’s ego getting any bigger.

“You’re always talking about him. You use any excuse to go and find him. It’s okay Roman to admit that you like him.”

“Like... oh Patton, you’re hilarious!” Roman burst out laughing. There was a slightly high pitched, manic tone to the near hysterical laughter, something a little too frantic and worked up to be completely natural. The idea that he might... it was just too ridiculous to even consider properly. Trust Patton to think up some funny joke to break the ice. Normally, he tended to lean more towards puns than straight out jokes like this. That was a little odd. 

“Oh. Oh god. You were serious.” Roman paled, laughter dying away abruptly and it didn’t seem funny anymore. Patton honestly seemed to think that Roman... that Roman _liked_ him? When had he ever implied that he _liked_ him? He was evil! He was dangerous and yes, Roman might like to flirt a bit with danger, but that was more like eating a thick bar of chocolate after a fatty meal. He might think that Virgil had beautiful pale grey eyes and dark purple hair he wanted to touch, but that was only to see if it was real or not. It was probably a wig. To disguise the horns he no doubt had. 

“Patton, I do **not** like him. I told you, he’s the devil. I’ve seen him move things without touching them! He’s looked at machines and they broke! The other night he vanished around a corner in seconds and if nothing else you have to agree with me that he shouldn’t be able to do that. You can’t pretend Virgil is any good at any sort of cardio exercise! Especially compared to me, if I couldn’t keep up with him, then you know something is up.” 

“Wait... were you following him?” Patton asked, expression slipping into one of surprise. Roman didn’t answer. That was not the part of the speech that he’d wanted his friend to focus on. He looked away, staring down at his slice for pizza for a moment while he floundered for something to say. A soft little huff had him looking back up, right into Patton’s concerned face. 

“Roman...” The expression moved from surprise to disappointment and that was so much worse. 

“I had to!” Roman defended himself indignantly. He wasn’t about to let Patton take him on a guilt trip. Not when he needed to make the rest of them realise how dangerous Virgil was. Something which, so far, he had little luck at succeeding in. Desperate times called for desperate measures. If he could only discover what Virgil was really up to when he left the apartment building, then Roman knew the others would finally listen to reason. 

“I need to get the proof! He goes out four nights a week Patton. Without fail, he leaves just before midnight and he doesn’t get back till five a.m. There is no sensible or legal reason for someone to be out that late for that long! At least not that often. He’s up to something nefarious and I’m going to prove it.”

“Or else he’s an insomniac and the walks are an attempt to tire himself out so he can sleep?” Patton suggested. His mouth was pinched into a tight little sad line. Roman hated himself for causing it. And maybe hated Patton a little for being able to influence him so easily, to make him sad. 

He wasn’t angry though. That wasn’t Patton’s way. Even when he felt very strong emotions, when he got really worked up, it would show as sorrow instead of rage. Just a sense that you had let him down but also that he thought you had let yourself down. Patton always made it very clear that any friend could let him down as much as they wanted - things happened, Patton told him. It was another matter completely to let yourself down. 

“Please. He likes looking like that... like, that dead. He wears makeup you know,” Roman waved his hand dismissively, refusing to feel guilty any longer. There was no way he was going to let Patton distract him from his worthy goal. Sweet, innocent, far-too-fast-to-trust-people, Patton. 

“Yes,” Patton agreed lightly. “I know. I also know those dark bags under his eyes aren’t all because of eye shadow. He can’t sleep, he told me so himself.”

“And you believed him?” There it was again. Patton was so quick to jump to accepting whatever anyone told him as the truth. It was dangerous, but it was just like that villain, to try and confuse his friend so. 

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s a pretty odd thing to lie about Roman,” Patton replied. Roman gaped at him, and how rude for him to argue. This was Virgil's fault again. He was planting all these seeds of bad behaviour in his best friend, and was encouraging him to take his side over Roman’s and it would not stand.

There was a line and trying to steal his Patton away from him was most certainly it.

Still. Patton... Patton had a point there. Roman hated to admit it, but he couldn’t offhand think of any reason why you would pretend to not sleep. It gave him a sort of reason to be outside at night although Roman could not only think off hand of half a dozen better reasons as to why he might be doing that but there were also countless better ways to deal with not being able to sleep.

Exercise might help, but Roman highly doubted Virgil went for a brisk walk to tire himself out. He wasn’t the sort. 

“Anyway, let’s stop talking about your ‘not crush.’” Patton had the nerve to lift his hands and make air quotes around the words ‘not crush’ and that was wounding in the extreme. He wanted to argue but that would only seem to prove Patton’s ridiculous point. 

No, no the best way to solve this was to concentrate his efforts on proving that Virgil really was up to something. He had to be up to something.

Do that and not even Patton would believe Roman had any feelings for the fool. Roman was a prince, he was brave, noble, and was full of everything that was good in the world. Prove that Virgil wasn’t and such ridiculous fantasies would vanish in a puff of smoke.

“Yes, let’s.” Roman couldn’t help but keep his voice clipped. Patton’s expression softened a fraction, his sunny disposition slipping into hurt and Roman couldn’t allow that. He offered his friend as genuine a smile as he could, gesturing towards the centre of the room. “We’ve got food to eat and movies to watch.”

He never could remain mad at Patton. His friend meant well, Roman knew there was no harm in his words, that he was just trying to find a reason that made sense. He even knew that if it was anyone else they were talking about, that perhaps - just perhaps - Patton would have a point. Roman was prone to dramatic gestures. He was the sort of person that would pine endlessly over someone, who would wax poetic on their many features and would use any excuse to talk about them. But this wasn’t anyone. This was his mortal enemy. 

Roman shook his head and followed Patton into the pillow fort, resolved to not let Virgil ruin this night on top of everything else. It was time to just enjoy his usual Friday ritual and spend some time with his best friend.

No gloomy emo’s allowed. 

\---

What a difference a week made. 

Roman surveyed his apartment with pursed lips. There was the pizza box. The bowl was ready to be filled with popcorn once the main meal had been eaten. The blankets heaped up into what was more a tower than a fort. The TV flickering light in the background, ready to play whatever movie was picked. 

It was all perfect.

Aside from the lack of Patton. 

Not that he blamed his friend. A work emergency was a work emergency and Patton didn’t have the luxury of set hours. Roman knew he would not have canceled unless there had been no other choice. He had to work because there would have been nobody else. And Patton’s job was so very important, so worthy. Roman had no idea how he managed it and remained so strong, so upbeat and cheerful. 

To be an E.R nurse required the sort of strength that Roman privately suspected he didn’t possess. It only made him admire his friend all the more. 

Still, that left him with a Friday evening and no friend to share it with. Now what was he supposed to do?

Roman huffed and climbed into the fort. It just wasn’t the same on his own. It wasn’t nearly as much fun on his own. At least he had his pizza. Patton’s normal order was in the fridge, and he had ordered them on autopilot. It was only when they had actually arrived, had Roman realised he had bought a pizza he didn’t need. It would be fine tomorrow. And at least it saved him having to cook. He could have a true lazy Saturday, Roman brightening a little at the thought and when was the last time he allowed himself that luxury?

There was always so much to do, and never enough time to do it. More than once, Roman had forgone sleep in an effort to try and cram as much as he could into the precious few hours he had. It always backfired in the end.

At the moment though... at the moment he had finished his commissions. He had a meeting on Monday which would no doubt bring more work. And while he did have some personal projects he wanted to work on - there was a screenplay to go over, a chapter of his newest work to write - he could afford one day off.

Truly recharge himself and be all the more wonderful on Sunday because of it. Roman felt positively gleeful as he pressed play on the remote, starting the first of the Disney films he had keyed in for the marathon. And no feeling guilty about what Patton wanted to watch. If Roman wanted to watch Beauty and the Beast twice in a row, then that was just what he was going to do. 

And did. 

\---

Roman woke with a start.

At first, he wasn’t sure what had woken him. Random Netflix adverts were playing softly on his screen, the last of the movies he had cued up long since finished. 

Roman yawned and pressed his fingers against his eyes for a couple of moments as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts. He must have fallen asleep sometime around the third movie mark, because he remembered Beauty and the Beast twice. He remembered starting Frozen and then... he remembered waking up. Eyes slid down to his lap, and the bowl of popcorn that had spilled its contents everywhere. 

Nose wrinkled up in dismay and he was going to be finding pieces of popcorn in his bedding and down his couch for days after this. Unless he cleaned it up all right now, but that sounded like a lot of hard work for what was probably late at night. He yawned again, stretching upwards. The movement caused the bowl on his lap to shift even more, tumbling off and falling to the ground. Roman watched it with a shrug and the mess was already made at this point. He might as well lean into it and deal with it tomorrow. 

So much for his lazy Saturday. Still, a little cleaning and then left over pizza. That was still going to be a pretty nice, albeit boring, way to spend his day.

Fumbling slightly, Roman pulled out his phone and unlocked it. The harsh light from the screen coming to life made him flinch slightly. It took a few seconds of him blearily blinking to be able to actually read the numbers in a way that made sense. 

It was half two. In the morning.

No wonder he was tired. Going to sleep in his own bed sounded wonderful right about now. Roman shifted, pulling himself out of the makeshift fort he had built. He padded over to the television with another yawn, flicking it off, his thoughts filled with the large, comfortable bed that was practically singing to him from the other room. It’s sweet siren call was attracting him and Roman was more than willing to let it lure him to his doom.

Or a night of blissful sleep. 

A sound had him freezing mid stretch. The same sound that had originally woke him up perhaps? Whatever it was, it made all that pleasurable warmth in his body vanish, to be replaced by icy cold daggers of fear. That was the sound of footsteps. Of heavy breathing. Of something scraping against metal.

Someone was outside his door.

Instantly all traces of sleep vanished from his body. It was as though he had consumed several large drinks of black coffee one after another like heady shots. His whole body was vibrating, mind whirling a million miles a minute as he stared at the closed door. It was half two in the morning. There was no way the person at his door was a friend. They would have called ahead if they were coming round at this time of night. And he hadn’t given the spare key to any of them - Roman kept meaning to give it to Patton, so he could spend the night here if he needed and because it was just sensible for some other person to have a key, just in case. But while he had meant to do that for ages, Roman hadn’t got around to it yet. 

So that left... what? An intruder? Some villain of some sort? Some robber intent on breaking in and attacking him? Of stealing his precious collection of Broadway memorabilia? They obviously had no idea who they were actually dealing with. 

Roman crept as silently as he could towards his door. On tiptoes, in socks, he navigated his apartment as best he could in the near dark. If only he had heard the sound properly before he had turned the television off. Now he was reliant on the pale moonlight coming in through his open curtains and all that told him was where the larger objects in his room were. Roman didn’t dare turn on his flashlight app. It might give him the ability to see, but it would also potentially alert whoever was out there. He wanted to catch them red handed.

A shadow passed in front of his door, blocking out the tiny sliver of light that was coming out from below it. At least the hallway lights were on, but he was running out of time. Roman had to get there before they broke in. He needed to know what he was up against and he needed to make sure he was correctly protected. 

A soft, partly swallowed breath of relief was the only celebration Roman allowed himself as he finally reached the wall beside his destination. 

Beside his front door, was an umbrella stand. Not that it actually held umbrellas. Roman thought he had one somewhere, but it didn’t belong there. That was where he kept all his prop weapons. His many stage swords and they were his precious babies. Far too special to risk leaving at the theatre. Hand closed around the handle of his favourite, a katana which looked real. 

It wasn’t of course. If he actually tried to stab someone with it, the blade would partway retract. Still, it looked the part and that would hopefully be enough to scare off the thieves if they were teenagers or if it was just one. If they had guns, then Roman’s plan would be to evade and escape. He knew better than to bring a knife to a gunfight.

Trembling slightly with all the adrenaline that was still pumping through his body, Roman took the final sideways step so he was standing directly in front of the door. Roman leaned forward, looking through the peephole to see exactly what was on the other side. 

It was Virgil. 

Not at his door but at his own. He stood at an angle, his back mostly towards Roman. They lived directly opposite each other and it seemed as though the sounds and sights Roman had taken to be someone breaking into his home were merely that of an emo attempting the complicated task of getting into his own. 

Roman swallowed down the groan of annoyance. Right now, he would have taken some masked robber trying to break in over having to deal with the disappointment of not finding any one to vanquish, and instead only finding Virgil. Roman had done a pretty good job of not thinking about Virgil and his evil deeds all evening, and that streak was ruined.

He turned away from the door, sliding the katana back where it belonged before freezing once more, a new thought occurred to him. 

Wait. It wasn’t five. Why was he back so early? 

Virgil was _never_ back this early. 

Frowning, Roman looked back through the peephole. Instead of dismissing Virgil’s general appearance, he tried to look at him from Patton’s point of view. As if this was someone who was honestly tired and not up to anything unholy.

He did... look somewhat tired, Roman had to admit. Virgil hadn’t gone inside his apartment yet. That in itself, was fairly unusual. Normally Virgil wanted to spend as little time in the hallway as possible. About the only good thing about Virgil was that he seemed to dislike Roman as much as Roman did him. It meant he didn’t get into Roman’s space, or hang around any area where he might run into him.

Good, but also highly insulting. Roman was a _delight_ to be around and even though he knew of Virgil’s nightly deeds - or suspected - Virgil should still want to be his friend. He should still realise how wonderful Roman was, rather than snorting or rolling his eyes every time they had the misfortune to cross paths.

Virgil let out a soft groan and rocked his head forward, resting his forehead against his door. The movement involved him tilting his head slightly and it gave Roman a better view of his face. 

Exhausted didn’t really seem to do it justice. Virgil looked completely drained. His already pale features looked completely washed out, an ashen tint to his skin that no amount of makeup could disguise. Those bags under his eyes couldn’t be all makeup. They were too dark, too large for that and it was just as Patton had said. He tried to hide it. Virgil’s eyes were closed but they were moving rapidly under his eyelids, flitting from side to side. 

Even in a moment where he seemed to be trying to calm or centre himself, Virgil didn’t look anywhere close to relaxed. Those baggy clothes looked less like a fashion statement now that Roman had the chance to stare at them, and more like clothes hanging off a too thin body. He looked at his neighbour slash nemesis and for the first time didn’t imagine doing some epic battle with him.

Right now, Virgil looked as if a particularly mean breeze would be capable of knocking him down. 

When was the last time he slept? Last eaten? He looked like a starved, half dead emo and no amount of irritating half knowing smiles or soft hair could make up for that. 

Lips twisted into an unhappy grimace at his own thoughts. It was mind games, Virgil was playing mind games via Patton, deliberately just to mess with Roman. He knew anything he said to Patton would get back to Roman and that Roman would be confused by it.

Yet Roman couldn’t bring himself to look away. 

There was another heavy sigh from Virgil as he slowly pushed himself up and away from the door. Key was pulled from his jacket. It took him three attempts to actually get it into the keyhole. It was the sort of behaviour Roman would have expected from a drunk, expect he knew Virgil hadn’t been drinking. His movements were ones of tiredness, not the light bubbles of drink.

The part of Roman that was an actor couldn’t help but take note of every movement. How everything seemed that much heavier, harder to do. How even pushing a door open seemed like a mammoth task. It was the sort of behaviour he would love to imitate on stage, should the need ever arise.

Virgil’s door slammed shut and Roman came back to himself. He had been staring through the peephole and taking notes on Virgil’s walk. On the way he held his head. Not because he was looking for proof he was evil, but because he was buying into the act. He was believing that Virgil really was that tired.

It was sort of hard to fake the weight loss however. Roman was sure he had seen Virgil look a more normal weight before. And that he generally looked all round more healthy normally. It was as though the man wasn’t taking good care of himself. Roman had no real idea what he did with his spare time - although not through lack of trying to find out. What he _did_ know however was that Virgil worked in a warehouse downtown. 

Long, soul crushing hours that Roman wouldn’t wish on anyone. Not even his worst enemy, which Virgil was.

Roman had never really understood why Virgil worked there. From what he had heard through other people, the emo was bright enough, and talented enough. Yet he never seemed to want to reach beyond that job. Maybe he was happy doing it. Maybe not, because he looked ill. Maybe he was just too tired or too busy after work to spare the energy and time needed to look for somewhere else.

It really wasn’t any of Roman’s business. It wasn’t what Virgil did officially that concerned him. But his after hours activities. Which he was still no closer to uncovering. 

Roman’s eyes drifted to his kitchen. There, inside the fridge was an untouched pizza. One that Roman had been looking forward to eating. One that he had used to justify allowing himself a rare day of relation. So why was he thinking about it now? 

Why couldn’t Roman shake the image of Virgil’s thin, tired frame from his mind?

There was no way Virgil was going to bother to eat anything tonight. He looked ready to drop down on his bed and sleep till morning. And then he would no doubt stumble out of bed, miss breakfast and rush off to work. 

Roman’s grimace grew more pronounced. That didn’t... sit well in his mind. Roman didn’t like the idea of anyone having to live like that. But what could he do? It was his pizza, not Virgil’s. And it wasn’t as if he was willing to speak to the emo. Virgil probably wouldn’t even accept it from him anyway.

Unless he didn’t know it was from Roman. Really, it was Patton’s pizza. So it would have been from Patton and Roman knew for a fact that his friend would want Virgil to eat it. He would probably be over there right now if he had seen what Roman had seen. Breaking down the door and aggressively mothering the emo. 

The image brought a faint smile to Roman’s face and he could just see it. The bewildered expression on Virgil’s face, the steely determination in Patton’s eyes. Virgil wouldn’t have stood a chance. 

Except Patton wasn’t here. Patton hadn’t seen Virgil and didn’t know anything about this. He might never hear about it. There was really no need for Roman to help. He hesitated, catching his bottom lip with his teeth for a moment. 

Patton put mushrooms on his pizza. It was a sacrilege and Roman didn’t want them anywhere near his mouth. It was amazing how you could forgive your friends all manner of things. While he still loved Patton despite his pizza crimes, there was a difference between accepting it and doing it yourself. Roman had no intention of eating mushrooms. He could pick them off before reheating it, but the mushroom juice had no doubt sunk into the cheese, infecting and destroying the delicious taste. Replacing it with evil.

And evil belonged with evil.

Roman needed to get the pizza out of his home. What better way than to leave it outside of Virgil’s door? No doubt the emo would eat mushrooms - more personal proof, that he was a figure from Hell. Yes, as a side effect, he would be feeding Virgil and ensuring he got something in his body, but that wasn’t why he was doing it. 

It was just to get rid of the pizza. 

Mind made up, Roman moved rapidly into his kitchen and yanked open the fridge. Now that he had decided, he didn’t want to waste time second guessing himself. He didn’t want to talk himself out of it. All Roman had to do was leave it outside Virgil’s door, knock and run. That way they wouldn’t have to talk to each other, which would be a blessing for both of them. Really, it should be a curse for Virgil, to be denied his company but Virgil clearly didn’t know what he was missing. 

Quietly, Roman unlocked his door and pulled it open. There was nobody else in the corridor. Everyone was probably asleep. Roman wished he was asleep. That he hadn’t seen Virgil come back and wasn’t doing this. There were lots of things he could wish he didn’t know or do, but they had still happened. 

All Roman could do was react to them. Roman slid the box against the bottom of the door. He knocked sharply on Virgil’s door and ran on tiptoes back to his own apartment, sliding inside and shutting the door with a quiet click. 

He exhaled in relief. The operation had been a success. He had managed to get rid of the mushrooms. Now, all Roman had to do was wait for Virgil to take the pizza and then he could lock his door and finally get some sleep. Mmm. Sleep. That sounded wonderful. The adrenaline was slowly wearing off and in its place was a bone aching tiredness. He just wanted sleep, but Roman didn’t dare move. Not yet.

The sound of Virgil’s door slowly opening had him grinning in triumph. 

It was time to go to bed. Almost. As soon as he heard the door close. Roman gazed out at his dark living room, counting the seconds in his head. What was taking Virgil so long? It wasn’t that difficult of a task, to bend down, collect a box and then go back inside. What was going on out there? Roman closed his eyes, trying to focus on bed. On going to bed and he just had to wait Virgil out. No looking, no prodding or pushing. All he had to... was wait.

Roman hated waiting. He wanted to know the why of everything, he wanted to understand there wasn’t a lot of information he could get with his back to the door. Curiosity won out in the end. For almost another five whole seconds, Roman managed to resist the temptation but he had to know what Virgil thought of the mystery pizza that had 

Roman slapped a hand over his mouth to stop the loud gasp of shock slipping free and ruining everything. 

He hadn’t seen Virgil’s full face the first time. Just one side of it. Now however, now Virgil was standing directly across the hall from him. His grey eyes were lowered and fixed on the pizza box, but it was the skin around his previously unseen eye that shocked Roman. 

There was a heavy bruise there. Makeup and bags under the eyes melted perfectly into a black eye the size of a giant’s fist, as if the legendary creatures had risen up from the earth and broken stone merely to hit his neighbour. 

Who would physically attack Virgil? He was so... weedy? So weak and pathetic looking. Like a half drowned, half starved kitten. Sure, Roman still maintained that he was evil, but unless they physically started something first, you didn’t attack someone like that. He couldn’t picture Virgil outright attacking someone. If he did, he probably snuck up behind them. In a cowardly, sneaking fashion.

Virgil was staring down at the pizza box. Somewhere along the way he had picked up the box. His hands were gripping the edges tightly. Frowning a little, Roman couldn’t help but notice that Virgil’s fingers were trembling. His whole body was shaking ever so slightly, a nervous shiver that made Roman feel strangely protective towards the emo. Nobody should have that sort of reaction towards finding free food. 

For the first time perhaps, Roman found himself wondering who had hurt Virgil, not only today, but in the past. What was his supervillain origin story? Usually all Roman thought about was his supervillain actions of the present, not the undoubtedly tragic events which led to him turning dark. All the best villains had a deeply tragic past, it was part of the pain that made a story so compelling. 

Head lifted. Virgil looked directly across the hall at Roman. Again, Roman had to swallow down the urge to make a sound, his fingers bunching up and tightening around his skin. It was as though Virgil was looking right at him, as if there was no door between them.

He _knew_.

No, there was no way he knew. Roman had been so careful. Aside from the door of his door opening and closing - which would have been masked by Virgil’s own movements - there hadn’t been any sound. He hadn’t left a note or anything. There was no way for Virgil to know that the pizza had come from Roman. It could have come from anyone, anywhere. 

Virgil scowled at his closed door meaningfully. 

Was that Virgil’s default expression? It was something that Roman saw on his face more often than not. And now he was using it in an empty space, which was just... weird. He couldn’t know. Roman repeated the words over in his mind and he wasn’t going to give in to his own mind. Roman was adding flavour and drama to a moment that was otherwise lacking in it. He saw an expression that wasn’t there. Virgil was merely being his usual, grumpy self and it was just Roman adding flair. 

He saw a meaningful glare instead of just a normal glare. Nothing to it. 

Grey eyes dropped back down to the box. Roman watched with bated breath as Virgil brushed a thumb against the side of it, a soft little hum slipping free. Roman wasn’t sure what was taking so long. How hard could it be to just accept free pizza?

With a soft little grunt, Virgil glanced back at Roman’s closed door one final time. To Roman’s intense relief, that look was followed by Virgil turning on his heel and walking back inside. His door closed, a click of a lock sounding a few moments later. Roman counted to twenty in his head, as slowly as possible and then pulled his hand away from his mouth in order to lock his own door. 

Who would have thought giving Virgil something would be so stressful and hard? 

Roman shook his head and began to carefully weave his way towards his bedroom. He was going to sleep, still find some way to relax tomorrow and not think about the mystery that was his neighbor for the rest of the weekend. 

It sounded like bliss.


	2. The World Turned Upside Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the lovely comments and kudos that were left on chapter one. It really warmed my heart and gave me the encouragement to press ahead with chapter two. I’ve gone a little outside of my comfort zone with this chapter as I’m not very confident when it comes to writing action scenes. But I gave it my best shot.
> 
> Some warnings for this chapter are fighting, violence, blood, injury. 
> 
> Chapter title today is from _Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down)_ from **Hamilton**.
> 
> Thank you again to my beta who really knocked it out of the park again, not only going through the whole chapter in a single day but also catching moments when I had used the British term for something, instead of the American. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

** **

### The World Turned Upside Down

** **

The problem with his plan was that his brain didn’t appear to be on board with it.

Which was, quite frankly, infuriating. His brain had been the thing that had come up with the plan in the first place! It had been his thoughts that had connected bed to sleep to relaxation and a weekend devoid of anything stressful or mysterious. For the first nine hours of the weekend, Roman had stuck to the plan. 

Part of that was because he was asleep for the first eight hours. And then the ninth hour was busy spent trying to remember how his unnecessarily complicated coffee machine worked. Roman wanted coffee and the machine just beeped, offering him endless menus and options. Where was the magic bean wake up juice button? Why couldn’t there just be one button, one thing, rather than having to add the water, milk and coffee pod to the machine before programming in some outrageously complicated order?

Why didn’t he just buy some instant coffee and be done with it?

It was a dance he had done a million times. Come the afternoon, Roman knew he would be praising his coffee machine once more. That was future Roman’s joy though. Right now, he was just happy when it finally started heating the water and milk, creating his own latte. Steaming hot, perfectly balanced, a delicious drink just waiting for him. Roman took a sip and sighed in delight.

And then he thought about Virgil.

Did he enjoy the pizza? Did he manage to get some sleep? How was he planning to explain that bruise away at work? ... Did anyone at work actually care enough to ask? Was there anybody in Virgil’s life that would care enough to ask?

Those were deep, distressing thoughts. Not the sort he wanted to have mid morning. Or anytime really. Roman glanced over at the clock; Virgil would have gone to work hours ago. He normally got back around half seven - Roman did his best to ignore the voice in his mind that sounded a lot like Patton cooing over how smitten he had to be that he knew his schedule like that. Although ignoring that voice then triggered the other one that sounded like Patton telling him off for acting like a stalker. Really, Roman couldn’t win.

All he knew was that Virgil would be back in the evening and if he timed it right he could make sure he actually bumped into him. 

With a plan in mind, Roman tried to turn his attention back to the more mundane matters of the moment. Enjoying himself. Relaxing. Except even then, his thoughts kept turning back to Virgil sooner or later. He couldn’t help but feel a little guilty that he was here, stretched out on his couch - after cleaning up the popcorn - and just watching television when Virgil was doing a long shift in a horrible job. Roman couldn’t enjoy his lunch knowing that Virgil probably didn’t have anything. 

Once or twice in the past, Roman had bumped into Virgil as he was leaving for work. He never had any food with him and unless he bought it at work - possible but highly unlikely - Virgil wasn’t going to eat until he got home. 

No wonder he was so thin.

At least he had eaten well last night. Roman could draw some small comfort from that. He didn’t want to think too deeply about it, didn’t want to follow it down the rabbit hole to explore why he suddenly cared, why he was wondering all of this instead of just focusing on evil.

Because it was either Patton had gotten in his head... or Virgil had. 

There was no way to know which was worse. Patton would be guilt filled and Virgil... well, Virgil would be fuelled by the power of the night, spite or whatever it was that emos ran on. Roman groaned and rolled over on the couch, pressing his face against the cushions. 

This was going to be a long day.

\---

The closer it got to half seven, the more antsy Roman got. What if Virgil was late? There was only so many times Roman could walk back and forth between his apartment and the complex entrance without looking _completely_ crazy. What if Virgil refused to look at him? If he saw him and turned tail? 

Any other day and Roman would have counted that as a great victory.

Today he was cursed with curiosity. Today he actually needed to know. Just to soothe that voice in his mind constantly questioning. Nothing else. The worry that Roman felt was directed at himself and himself only. 

The image of Virgil’s thin, bruised face came into his mind’s eye and inwardly, Roman cursed. 

Maybe he was a little worried about Virgil. Just a little. But he had a right! Virgil was his arch nemesis and Roman didn’t like the idea that he might be seeing other heroes behind his back. That he was getting into situations without Roman. Situations that Roman never managed to find because Virgil always managed to lose him. Roman felt hopped up on caffeine, even though he had only had two cups today. He was buzzing with energy, and Roman found himself hoping that Virgil would go out on one of his mystery trips tonight.

Tonight was the night he was going to catch him in the act. Or at the very least, make sure nobody else punched his emo in the face. Not his emo. His.... enemy. Yes, that sounded about right. 

The minute hand finally reached six on the wall clock. Half seven. It was showtime. Roman nodded a couple of times, clicking his fingers together to settle himself into the role. He could do this. It was just acting, it was just another play, another performance. Easy, peasy. 

With a confidence that he certainly didn’t feel, Roman gathered his things and left his apartment. He kept his head held high as he walked, hips swaying. Normally, he would use the stairs when he left the building - it was good exercise and it was certainly better than using them to go back up. This time however, he picked the elevator. Virgil would use the elevator and Roman couldn’t afford to miss him. He could feel his breath start to come in shorter gasps as it descended, his heart picking up speed to match. Closer and closer to the exit. 

The doors opened with a soft little ‘ding’ and Roman stepped out. He tried not to be too obvious as he moved through the lobby area. There was no sign of Virgil yet as he slowed down his pace the closer he got to the door. Hand went into his pocket, Roman going through the motions of looking for his phone, his keys, his wallet. He would have to have forgotten one of them, so he had a good excuse to turn around and head back up.

As if on cue, the front door was pushed open and a very familiar, gloomy storm cloud stepped through. For the first time in forever, Roman actually felt pleased to see him. Virgil had his hood up, head bent to stare at the ground. Every inch of him was giving off intense ‘do not interact’ vibes, but Roman had no choice. If the idiot had just lifted his head as he walked, then Roman wouldn’t have to do this. He couldn’t believe Virgil was _making_ him do this. 

“Virgil.” Roman stepped to the side, blocking Virgil’s path and forcing him to look up. That was all Roman wanted. Just a glance. 

The emo stopped and drew in a shuddering breath. Slowly, he lifted his head, eyes blazing with mistrust. As though Roman was up to something, as if this was a dangerous situation. It was a little odd - Roman was painfully aware that he had _never_ greeted Virgil in the past - but he pushed on regardless. He had to be sure. 

“Princeton.” Virgil replied. Roman tried to hide the wince and who knew his own name could be spoken with such icy fury? Roman focused instead on the face, rather than the voice. Some part of him knew he was probably staring, but he was too busy looking for something that wasn’t there. The bruise... it was gone. 

Virgil’s eyes were bloodshot and angry, but the skin around them both was clear and unmarked. As though there had never been a mark there at all. It only served to highlight the stunning beauty of those grey eyes and Roman knew he should think of something witty to stay. All he could think however, was that Virgil was very attractive. It really wasn’t fair.

“Something you want?”Virgil asked after a couple more beats of silence. His voice was odd, some kind of mix between a snarl and... was it hopeful to think that it was hope? Not that Roman wanted it to be hope because that would imply that he was falling for the miscreant's evil magic, which he most certainly was not.

“No. Just wanted to say hi.” Roman lifted his head high, ignoring how feeble the excuse sounded, even to him. He ignored the eyebrow that rose high on Virgil’s face, the disbelief evident. Virgil opened his mouth and then shut it again, apparently unsure of what he wanted to say. Excellent. It gave Roman a chance to get out of this with _some_ dignity intact. He took another sideways step, dodging around Virgil and back on his original path before Virgil could so much as blink. Without another word, he moved towards the exit.

Roman carried on walking, out of the doors and down the street. He didn’t really know where he was going, but that didn’t matter. All he had to do was keep moving. Maybe go to the local shop around the corner. Anything to give him a reason to have left and then come back. 

He had gotten the information he was looking for, but it had only led to more questions. Roman knew his brain wasn’t playing tricks on him. He was convinced that Virgil had that black eye last night. It could have just been makeup, probably stage if so, but that made no sense. Why would he put a fake one on in the middle of the night? He could have used some really good concealer to hide it, but Roman knew a thing or two about makeup. He knew its texture and its abilities. While it might have been able to disguise a bruise to a near flawless level, the hint was in the sentence.

Nearly flawless. There were signs, if you knew where to look. If you had been standing as close as Roman had been standing, and looking as hard as he had been. There had been some white foundation on, more to hide the unnatural pallor of the skin below - and that was a thought for another time - but there hadn’t been the expected signs of concealer covering sins. No, the bruise really wasn’t there now. Whatever the truth might be, Roman knew that much. 

It had to have been fake. Because the alternative was that it had been real but had somehow managed to heal completely in less than twenty four hours. Bruises didn’t do that. 

Tonight, Roman promised himself again as he hit the ground with each foot with slightly more force than was actually necessary. Tonight he was really going to solve the mystery of Virgil Sanders once and for all. Tonight he was going to be ready for him. Tonight he was going to push past these new and confusing feelings and thoughts in order to focus on the original task at hand - discovering Virgil’s dark secret. 

\--

Roman had been ready for nearly an hour before he heard the tell-tale squeak of Virgil’s door slowly opening. He couldn’t help but smile a little at the sound and really, if Virgil insisted on trying to be sneaky, you would have thought he would have had that fixed by now. Roman was grateful he hadn’t because it meant he could tell Virgil was leaving without having to lurk right by his front door. Still, it was still a little embarrassing that his nemesis had such an obvious tell.

Roman deserved a better nemesis. 

If all went to plan tonight, then he would be in the market for one - but, he couldn’t afford to get ahead of himself just yet. Roman had to focus on the moment. Mindfulness, as Patton put it. He had to be aware, he had to be focused and he had to be ready for anything. In his head, Roman counted to twenty and then softly opened his own door. 

A gentle ding let him know that Virgil was in the elevator now as Roman quickly locked his door and rushed for the stairs. At least they only lived on the third floor. It wasn’t that hard to get down them and although he could never beat an elevator, the object was merely to be close. He didn’t want to get to the lobby until Virgil had passed through the doors - Roman had been early once, Virgil had seen him in the reflective glass, scowled and vanished before they had gone two blocks. Roman didn’t make the same mistake again. 

With practised ease, Roman headed out after Virgil. He knew most of his tells by now. He was aware when Virgil was going to look behind him, when he made a side step into an alley and waited to see if anyone was behind him. They were all tricks Roman had fallen foul of in the past, but not again. Not tonight.

To his confusion, Virgil barely seemed to use any of them. He wasn’t walking with his usual grumpy grace either. Roman couldn’t exactly put his finger on what was different. The emo still walked with his hands shoved into his pockets, his shoulders hunched up around his ears. He still shuffled through the streets with his head staring down at the pavement - beyond the occasional glance behind of course - and yet there was something about the overall effect which was just... wrong. 

Somehow it was wrong and Roman added it to the list of things that he didn’t like about this whole situation. It was a long list that had started with Virgil’s attitude but he had to admit the more recent entries on it, while still focused on Virgil, were less negative about the other man. And more worried about the other man. 

He didn’t like that either. 

Roman was so caught up in the strange circle of thoughts that he almost missed Virgil turning into another alley one of those times where Virgil was just being paranoid - or not since he was being followed. Or was it the moment where he tended to lose Virgil? It was a delicate balancing act, knowing when it was safe to follow him and when it was a trap.

He carefully inched forward, holding his breath as he did. Roman couldn’t risk it. He _had_ to know the truth tonight. Again, the image of Virgil’s pale, bruised face came into his mind. Something very akin to worry stirred as well, a concern that if he lost Virgil now, he would come back wounded again.

How many times had he come back with bruises that you couldn’t see? Ones that nobody bothered to look for? Just what _was_ Virgil doing out here in the dark?

The alley was empty. Roman’s heart sunk and he couldn’t believe he had lost Virgil _again_. The one thing he had been hyping himself up to do and he had failed. It wasn’t even about proving Virgil was evil anymore - not wholly. It was about discovering who had hurt him. No matter what dastardly deeds the emo had been doing, he didn’t deserve bruises. Nobody did. Especially not Virgil. Roman blinked a couple of times. Where had that thought come from? 

A shadow moved at the far end of the alley distracting him from such confusing thoughts. It vanished around the corner and down the street. From where Roman had been standing, he couldn’t be sure if that had been Virgil - for all he knew it could have been a particularly large opossum that the light had caught. Whoever it actually was, Roman couldn’t waste this chance. He had to go with the belief that it was Virgil, because this was the closest he had come to discovering the truth. 

Quickly, he ran through the alley, wrinkling his nose at all the delightful smells that assaulted his nostrils as he went. It was quite astounding, how many different scents could all mingle together and create the uber disgusting scent that was rotting food and urine in a side alley somewhere. It was probably all over his shoes by now as well. Roman barely repressed the shudder that ran through him at that thought. He was definitely going to have to bleach the soles of his shoes as soon as he got home. Roman had followed Virgil through some pretty foul alleys in the past, but none of them had reached the heights of disgust that this one did.

Thankfully, it didn’t take Roman long to get through it, going around the corner in the same direction as the shadow. Ahead, he could make out his target. Sort of. Roman was almost certain it was Virgil, the man inwardly giving a little fist pump of delight that he hadn’t lost him after all.

There was something different about his neighbor though. It was in the way he walked. No... stalked. He moved along the edge of the pavement, sticking close to the buildings and the shadows they cast, with a grace and confidence that Roman had never noticed in Virgil before. It was far too dark to be able to get a clear look at him, but Roman was almost convinced that his clothes were different too.

Gone was the dark purple that blended so artfully with black and in its place was all black. It was as though any light that hit Virgil was sucked in instead of reflected, and it kept Roman from getting a good look at his target. It stopped him from being completely sure that it was Virgil. No matter how many street lamps he passed under, the light never seemed to settle on his form. Even Roman’s eyes wanted to slide off him and examine the rest of the street instead. Rokman lost count of the number of times that he caught himself examining a shop window or a passing car instead of what he actually wanted to watch.

Something really _creepy_ was going on here. 

For the first time tonight, Roman found himself seriously considering the idea that perhaps Virgil really was a bad guy. That Roman might have bitten off more than he could chew in following him. 

Not a dastardly villain who needed to be redeemed. Or a misunderstood emo that had dark thoughts and plans, but still didn’t deserve to be injured. Those ideas had been new, born out of the sight of a bruise that probably hadn’t even been real. He had fallen for the... trick that Virgil had no doubt played on him. He had allowed himself to soften towards Virgil and that was something Roman had long ago sworn he would never do. 

Yet do it, he had. 

The air seemed to turn a little more chilly as first maybe Virgil and then Roman rounded another corner. They were steadily heading deeper and deeper into the worst part of town. It was an area that Roman tended to avoid, because he didn’t do drugs or want to be robbed for no reason. It wasn’t fair on the people who lived here, most of whom probably weren’t evil, but it was the unshakeable impression that the rest of the city had on them. 

Virgil hadn’t looked behind himself once since passing through the alley. Either he didn’t care or he honestly thought he had lost Roman. Really, Roman couldn’t blame him if it was the latter - Roman had never seen Virgil like this, he had always lost track of him before any strange change in his outfit and attitude. 

Despite every instinct in him screaming that he should run while he had the chance, Roman kept moving forward. This was it. He was finally going to find out the truth and Roman wasn’t going to let the very real fear or being robbed and/or murdered get in the way of discovering what Virgil had been up to all these months. The fact he had deliberately chosen to come to this part of town hardly helped Virgil’s case. 

Patton would have a fit when he learnt about this. Roman just hoped he wouldn’t learn about it by coming across either of them on a gurney at work.

A female voice crying out cut through the air, somewhere to the side and deeper in the maze of little side streets that made this area so confusing to those who didn’t live here. In front of him, Virgil froze. Roman stumbled to a stop as well, his breath hot in his throat. He wanted to go and find out who had called out. The cry had been loud, desperate and a call for help that could easily be ignored. What was he going to do? Someone was in danger and yet Roman was hesitating over going to their aid because it meant he would have to give up this chance to learn what he had wanted to know for so long.

The woman screamed again, sound cut off mid cry.

Instantly, Virgil was moving. To Roman’s bewilderment, he was... moving towards the sound? As if he was answering the cry for help. 

So much the better. Roman moved as well, following Virgil who seemed to somehow know exactly where to go. He ducked and weaved through one side street and alley after another, Roman struggling to keep him in his sights. 

There weren't any further cries. Something ugly and heavy was tying itself up in knots in Roman’s stomach. Had he waited too long? He was supposed to be better than this, Roman believed in good and doing the right thing. The fact he had hesitated long enough for her to have to scream again... it was not the sort of person that Roman wanted to be. 

Virgil’s secret was nothing compared to the reality of a person in danger. 

Roman turned yet another corner after Virgil and then instantly shrank back into the shadows. He had found the woman, alright, and she wasn’t alone. Three more women were clustered around her, gripping her and holding her tightly. Pinning her in place as another stood with her hands on her hips in front of her. Clearly the person in charge of the group, her pose alone radiated energy and confidence. Where this blond woman led, Roman realised, others would follow. 

She demanded all the attention in the area. The dim light that filtered through the area seemed to make her hair glow, catching every ashen blond strand and making it that much brighter. Against the filth and the dark of the alley, she alone seemed to shine. It was no doubt deliberate, coupled with the pale grey long jacket she wore. Everything about her was designed to catch the eye and scream power, danger. 

She should have been the only thing Roman could focus on. But his eyes moved past her, and a little way away from them was a figure robed in black. Virgil. Now that he had stopped moving, it was slightly easier for Roman’s eyes to stay focused on him. He still wasn't sure he actually understood what he was seeing. 

There was a black mask obscuring Virgil’s features from the rest of the world and it wasn’t for those lips curled into an all too familiar smirk, Roman doubted he would be sure it was him at all. Smirking at the scene in front of him as though there was anything amusing about it. 

“Please!” The woman in the middle begged. Blood was running down her face, a deep gash on her forehead letting blood seep down and into her eye, her mouth. It made patterns across her skin, countless little lines showing every crease and expression she had ever pulled. The woman in front of her shook her head grimly, the movement making the light bounce around the alley. It lit up all the area and there was no way that was natural. The hair seemed... _alive_. In a way that hair wasn’t supposed to be. 

“Sorry Rubes. You know the rules as well as any of us. You betray the swords, you get the mace.” 

His eyes found the knuckle duster that gleamed on her left hand as it lifted in the air once more. 

“Leave her alone,” Virgil demanded, moving closer to the group. Roman felt his mouth drop open into a shocked gape and what was Virgil _doing_? He should be calling the cops! For that matter, Roman should be calling the cops, but he had left his cell phone in his apartment. Exactly why, Roman wasn’t sure - it had seemed like a good idea at the time no doubt. But it left him helpless now, watching as Virgil marched up to a woman whose hair glowed and a group of people intent on beating - maybe murdering - another. 

“Oh if it isn’t little Shade,” the blond sneered. “Stay out of this honey, it’s personal. Between me and my little Rubes here.”

“ _ **Sleep**_.” There was power in that voice, in that word and Roman felt his knees wobble a little, a wave of tiredness sweeping over him. It was really late at night and a nap sounded wonderful just about now. Roman could feel his whole body start to sag, begging for the relief that rest would provide. His eyes felt heavy, something tugging insistently on each eyelid and trying to drag them shut. Sleep... yes... sleep sounded... good... 

The wind changed direction, bringing with it the stench of freshly split blood mingled with stale and rotting trash, snapping him out of those thoughts and there was no way Roman was going to fall asleep here of all places. His whole body twitched, one long, shuddering twitch that started in his neck and rolled all the way down to his toes. He could still hear Virgil’s word in his mind, echoing - well, there was no other word for it but ‘command’, something powerful, that grabbed you by the throat and demanded you obey. 

Roman blinked.

And blinked again.

The three women that had been supporting the leader were all crumpled up on the ground. Roman hadn’t seen anyone lay a finger on them and yet they were all still, unconscious. He might have thought they were worse than that but he could see the chest rising and falling in a steady pattern on the closest one, enough to tell him that they were - what? Asleep? 

They had actually fallen _asleep_? Virgil had told them to and they had? In an alley? Roman was missing something here. Something really big. Fingers dug into the crumbling brickwork of the corner he was still standing beside. Half to ground him and half to stop himself from giving into that desire to just drop down to the ground regardless. 

“I won’t give you another warning,” Virgil told the leader. “Walk. Away.”

She stared at him, something cold and chilling in her gaze. It made Roman shiver, made him feel as though he wasn’t wearing a thick coat at all. He felt small in this moment, an ant amongst giants as the two glared at each other. The only saving grace was that neither seemed aware of his presence. Which was also highly insulting but Roman was clinging to the positive aspects of it right now - namely she hadn’t tried to use that knuckleduster on his perfect face. 

“Nah. Let’s fight.” 

She dropped down into a four legged pose, one artfully long leg sweeping out in an attempt to knock Virgil off his feet. He, in turn, lept backwards, avoiding it and then swinging low to try and punch her. 

The fight seemed almost like a dance. The two of them moved backwards and forwards, fluidly exchanging blows and deflecting more. It was highly skilled from the pair of them and Roman couldn’t help but be a little enchanted by the savage beauty of it all. It might be a horrible place with horrible people, but Roman could appreciate the aesthetic of the moment. 

Virgil was taking care not to trip over the unconscious women on the ground, or injure them in any way. The woman - whoever she was - had no such regard which Roman couldn’t help but feel doubly unfair since she knew them and Virgil didn’t seem to. What sort of person stomped carelessly on a hand or kicked a leg out of the way when they belonged to people they knew? Or any person? None of the unconscious women reacted to any of the violence, making Roman wonder just how deeply they were asleep.

“I grow tired of this,” the woman snarled, leaping backwards. It was an impossibly graceful move, something ethereal and otherworldly. She moved as though gravity itself couldn’t hold her down, as though all she had to do was lift her arms and the rest of her body would follow suit. 

With equal grace, Virgil jumped as well, catching against the wall of the alley and using the brickwork to push himself off back towards her, an added boost that seemed to make him almost fly forward, the woman only narrowly avoiding it. Roman wasn’t sure what he was seeing, but whatever it was, this was like nothing he had ever seen before. 

“You can’t win, how many times are we going to have to do this Lucia?” Virgil complained. “You’re not the only one getting tired, you think someone with your brains would have the sense to stop fighting me after a while. You know how this ends. How it always ends.” 

“As many times as it takes to knock you down and keep you there. You’re getting slow, Shade,” Lucia taunted. She jumped again, soaring over Virgil’s head to land behind the cluster of unconscious people. Her hair glowed brighter, and one of the women rose up to her feet, body jerking and twisting.

Awake?

No. Her eyes were still closed, head bent at an awkward angle that was going to cause her all sorts of stiffness when she woke up. Roman could see her feet as well, and they weren’t actually touching the ground. Like a puppet dragged up by it’s strings, she hung in the air at all manner of stiff and unnatural angles. 

“Not to mention, that bleeding heart of yours will get you into serious trouble one of these days. You know how to stop this, but you won’t. And all it takes is one slip up and we kill you. Game over.” Lucia lifted a hand, the woman moving in parallel to the action. She drew her hand back, rolling into a punch that was more than just an aimless swing. It sent the nameless grunt flying through the air, a human weapon. 

Not that she was going to hit Virgil from where he was standing, but as Roman realised with awful clarity, that wasn’t the point. Lucia didn’t need to hit Virgil with the body. All she had to do was toss it towards a brick wall with the force she had used and there was a high chance that the woman would die. 

“No!” Virgil jumped, pushing himself forward with reflexes that no normal person should have, something Lucia seemed to have expected. 

Roman had read _Spider-Man_. He knew what happened to Gwen when Peter had caught her, how the sudden jolt had been enough to apparently break her neck. Virgil, it seemed, had read _Spider-Man_ too. Or else he had lived it and Roman didn’t want to follow that train of thought either. It went in the box with a whole host of other panic inducing revelations, to be drawn out at a later date.

All he could do was watch with his heart in his throat as Virgil collided with the body. He moved with the force instead of against it, twisting a little to shield her form with his own. He hit the wall with a sickening crack, a sound that made Roman’s blood run cold. Virgil had taken the blow, had allowed himself to be hurt, in order to save someone who was his enemy... 

Oh.

Oh he had got this all wrong hadn’t he.

The bruises, the grumpy behaviour, the constant exhaustion. Slipping out at night, visiting the worst areas of the city, challenging people he should avoid... Virgil wasn’t a villain at all. He wasn’t the bad guy here. 

He was... holy hell, he was a _hero_. 

And apparently he had super powers? Superpowers were a _thing_? A real, honest to god, actual, living thing? Roman very carefully took that thought and filled it away, as deep within his mind as he could manage to be ignored for now and hopefully explored at a much later date. He really wasn’t ready to deal with the concept that people could actually say a word and make people pass out, or fly or whatever the hell Lucia was doing. He wasn’t ready to confront the idea that all his daydreams and stories about another world within his own was actually real, that superheroes and villains were not just confined to comics and movies. 

It was hard enough coming to terms with the sheer depth of his mistake when it came to misjudging Virgil. Who was currently crumpled up on the ground, a still form half obscured by the unconscious woman who hadn’t stirred once. Roman’s eyes were glued to him, silently whispering prayers for him to get up. To keep fighting. Virgil couldn’t give in, not like this! 

The sound of his back cracking against brick ringed in Roman’s ears.

“Weak. Pathetic. Looks like I win after all.” Lucia glanced down at her nails, a sneer crossing her icy features. She lifted her hand, another figure starting to unnaturally stirr from the group of bodies before freezing, head tilted to the side. 

Roman could still see this out of the corner of his eye as he carried on watching Virgil, wishing desperately for some sign that he was alive, that he wasn’t dead, he couldn’t be dead. He jus-

“Oh... do I have an audience?” Lucia cooed. The words sent a chill down Roman’s spine, his head whipping around to look at her. She was glancing around, apparently unaware of exactly where he was. For one long, hopeful moment, Roman wondered if it was just a bluff. Her next words dashed that feeble hope. 

“I can hear your heartbeat little one. Come out, come out little rabbit. Oh it’s been far too long since I played with a tasty little innocent morsel. You don’t sound like my usual... playthings. I’m going to have fun when I find you. Your heart is betraying you...” 

Words died in her throat at the sound of a body shifting against concrete. Despite his own fear, Roman looked away from her. 

And right to Virgil as he clambered ungainly to his feet. Roman had seen his neighbour angry before now - a grumpy scowl was pretty much Virgil’s default expression as far as he was concerned. The look in his eyes though... there was anger and then there was anger. Virgil was beyond furious, the very air around him crackling a little as if some electric current was running through it. 

“Shade. You’re awake.” Lucia managed to sound bored but Roman had seen her expression before she had smothered it into a blank look. It had been a look of surprise if nothing else. She hadn’t expected him to get up so soon - or even at all. 

“Lucia. Hurting your friends now? A new low, I’m almost impressed... I bet they won’t be.” 

Virgil’s words seemed to have pressed on a sore spot, Lucia snarling as she moved forward, all thoughts of Roman apparently forgotten. Virgil ducked as the woman swung furiously torwards him. He sidestepped her, twirling rapidly. Fingers found the side of her head, but instead of hitting, Virgil’s touch was light, little more than fingertips brushing against her glowing hair as they passed each other. 

“ _ **Sleep**_!” Virgil growled. 

It felt different from before. Roman didn’t want to drop down on the ground for one thing. He could still feel that urge, that sleep pressure but it was as though he was sensing a current rather than a flood. All the power, all the energy and desire to sleep was funnelling past him. It swirled around the two still standing in the alley, a whirlpool of power that shouldn’t exist. 

Lucia kept on moving forward. Her knees gave way under her, legs dropping as her own memotium sent her crashing to the ground. Arms flung up, pillowing her head as she lay there, body still and silent. 

It was over. Virgil had won.

He stood over her, panting heavily. For a brief moment, Roman wondered what Virgil would do to her.

The answer, when it came, turned out to be nothing at all. Virgil turned away, dismissing Lucia completely to shuffle over towards Rubes, the woman cowering against the far side of the alley. 

Roman was ashamed to say that he had completely forgotten about her. He had been so caught up in the events, first the fight, then the worry for Virgil, followed swiftly by the worry for himself, that the fact Virgil had originally swooped in to save someone had slipped from his mind. 

“Are you okay?” Virgil asked her, offering a hand to help her up. 

“Don’t touch me freak!” The woman - Rubes - spat the words and even from this distance, Roman could see the hate shining in her eyes. She slapped away Virgil’s offered hand, pushing herself awkwardly up from the floor. “You’re as bad as she is!”

Her words seemed to hurt Virgil in a way that none of Lucia’s punches or kicks had. He flinched, stumbling backwards and curling into himself. The powerful hero of mere moments ago was replaced by an awkward, unhappy looking emo who didn’t say another word as Rubes ran from the scene. 

“Virgil?” Roman called out softly. He couldn’t help the worry in his voice and honestly, Roman wasn’t even sure where he would begin if asked to pinpoint what he was concerned about. Was it Virgil’s body? He had to be black and blue all over, his back if nothing else would be a patchwork of bruises. Or maybe it was Virgil’s mind? Virgil looked absolutely devastated at Rubes’ rejection of his help, seeming to shrink even further into himself with every passing second.

Or was it a fear that Virgil might make him sleep too? 

Virgil spun on his heel, eyes wide and startled. The movement was too fast, too jerky, compared to the graceful twirls of the fight. He moved too far or too sudden, spinning off his axis and falling to the ground. 

Roman lunged forward but he lacked the reflex or speed of Virgil. He couldn’t get to him in time, Virgil’s body hitting the ground and staying there. Roman crouched beside him, hands lifting and falling in a series of fluttering movements that betrayed how useless he felt right now. At a loss for what else to do, he reached out, gently shaking Virgil’s shoulder. He had chosen now to pass out? He couldn’t, not here, not right now. The day wasn’t completely saved, not until he was back in his secret identity. 

“Come on, come on,” Roman mumbled and they couldn't stay here. There was no telling when any of the women might wake up. No telling either if anyone had heard the fight or who Rubes might tell about it. They had to get out of here and fast. Roman had no idea how to look after someone with super powers.

Virgil opened his eyes, gaze a little glassy and distant but he was awake at least. Right now Roman would take anything over him being unconscious. 

“Come on Virge. On your feet, please, we need to go” Roman pleaded. To his surprise, Virgil actually moved when he pulled him upright. The other man wobbled a lot as he moved, swooning against him. At any other time, Roman might have welcomed a dark haired beauty falling into his arms. Those fantasies didn’t involve a situation like this.

Well, not exactly like this. Sure, he had daydreamed about saving people before, particularly about a grateful handsome prince who offered a kiss as a reward. It had all been slightly fuzzy and pastel colours, a delicate watercolour that lacked any of the vibrancy of real life. Something idealised and safe to dream about but not something that he had actually wanted to happen. 

Roman hooked an arm around his shoulder and let him lean against him. Virgil made a soft noise that might have been a moan of pain or protest. It was too soft to be sure. 

He was still upright though. Virgil let him guide them forward, stumbling as though drunk, and if nothing else, Roman could use that. As soon as they were a couple of blocks away from here, he was going to have to risk taking off the mask - Roman couldn’t take him back to the apartment looking like this. It would be a delicate balancing act, working out when it was safe to do it. As well as hoping with all his might that they didn’t run into any more trouble on the way.

This was going to be a long walk home.


	3. Set My Heart Aflame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter! Now this does have a rather open ending, but as it stands, it is the end. With that delicious possibility of all the good stuff they get up to off page. And it's my birthday! What better way to celebrate another trip around the sun than by not only posting a chapter but also finishing a story? 
> 
> Chapter title today is from _Satisfied_ from **Hamilton**. Had to finish up the theme.
> 
> I want to give an even bigger thank you than usual to my wonderful, wonderful beta, Kat. Who helped me so much more than usual this time. She polished some of the more clunky parts of this chapter into something better. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

** **

### Set My Heart Aflame

** **

For what felt like the millionth time that evening, Roman lifted a hand to run it absently through his hair. Being in motion helped, it gave him stability, something to focus on. The illusion of control, of productivity. If he was moving his hands then for that brief second Roman could pretend he was helping.

Rather than just lingering in the doorway and watching the rise and fall of Virgil’s chest as he slumbered on the couch. Staying out of the way was helping, or so he reminded himself. As soon as he had gotten the two of them back to the apartment block, to safety, he had called Patton for help. It had been uncomfortable, but Roman had forced himself to search Virgil’s jacket for his keys. No doubt he would prefer to wake up properly in familiar settings. Roman just hoped Virgil wouldn’t be too mad at him for it.

His friend, as always, had risen wonderfully to the occasion. He didn’t waste time asking questions that Roman wasn’t sure how to answer. Patton simply drove over and set to work on trying to patch up Virgil. There was a worried, almost distracted look in his eyes as he checked him over, looking for whatever had caused him to pass out in the first place. 

There wasn’t really anything wrong with Virgil that Patton could tell. No broken bones, no visible bleeding. No swelling or bruising to imply internal bleeding - and how he didn’t have any bruises after being thrown about that alley was beyond Roman and another thing to ask Virgil when he eventually woke up. 

Rest was Patton’s eventual conclusion. Rest and possibly a visit to the hospital if things didn’t improve. Patton’s lips had twisted into a slightly more unhappy frown as he said those words. Roman couldn't blame him. Exhaustion alone might have made him pass out but it didn’t explain how he had behaved on the walk home or how he refused to react to the usual stimuli. Roman could see how badly Patton was swallowing down the desire to insist that they drive the sleeping man to the hospital. About the only thing stopping him was Patton’s belief that he was asleep rather than unconscious in a dangerous, head injury way. Roman wasn’t sure he understood the difference, but he trusted his friend and that was the important thing. 

Roman had no way of knowing if Virgil could afford a trip to the hospital. He wore ripped clothes and never seemed to eat anything - a quick look in his fridge had shown Roman the only edible thing in there was half of the pizza he had left for him. Virgil worked, slept and - apparently - fought crime for free. Nothing else. Nothing that implied he had money to indulge in hobbies or in hospitals. 

Welcome to the reality of living in America. 

Where you had to make the choice about if you could afford medical treatment or not. And where apparently, people could fly and command people to fall asleep with a single word. Now that he was slightly calmer, Roman felt able to try and work through that properly. To a degree at least. It was progress on the way his brain had shut down and completely refused to engage in either the past or the present. Roman had been too caught up in the events to even think about how that fight technically wasn’t the first time he had seen the impossible. 

After all, Roman had seen Virgil do odd things in the past. Things that no normal person should have been able to do. He had seen the way Virgil had lifted a hand and muttered a word, stilling the furious rantings of Jasper, the old man who lived on the floor below them. That alone should have been proof that he had magic powers. Not even Roman had been able to charm Jasper. No matter what he said or did, the old man had remained steadfast in his grumpy behaviour. 

And then along came Virgil, and with just a word he had convinced Jasper to actually listen. A short conversation later and Jasper had been willing to withdraw his complaint about noises in the floor above. Nobody had ever been able to convince Jasper to withdraw a complaint before Virgil. Or since. 

Then there was the time when Roman had stepped out of the building moments before Virgil stepped in. It had been raining and Virgil had been soaked. It was probably petty of Roman, to grin smugly at him from under his umbrella, secure in the knowledge that he would remain dry. 

Just as the two of them stepped by each other, something seemed to knock his umbrella, wrenching it out of his hand. At the same time, the guttering above had dropped a tremendous amount of built up rain water down on his head, soaking him completely. In a matter of seconds, Roman had looked as wet as Virgil had done after a walk in it. 

Roman had thought there was something fishy about that, but he had no proof. Virgil had kept his hands in his pockets the whole time, although that smirk told Roman everything he had needed to know. All the times he had tried to follow Virgil, only to lose him in impossible corners, that had to have been his powers at work. 

Finally, there had been the time Roman had caught Virgil practising parkour. He had jumped impossible distances and although Virgil had stopped the second he had noticed Roman, he had seen enough to be convinced that Virgil had been cheating somehow. Patton had pointed to all the videos online of people doing what seemed like impossible stunts through parkour but Roman hadn’t been convinced. There had been something about the way Virgil had gilded through the air and jumped which seemed to say he had his own personal relationship with gravity. 

But... despite all his protestations, had Roman _really_ believed that it was powers? _Demonic_ powers? He had worked so hard to try and get other people to see what he saw. He shouted to the whole world that there was something unnatural, something unimaginably nefarious but completely real, happening with Virgil but nobody listened. And now, he wondered, did he himself truly believe his own words? Or had it been him latching onto any sign that there was something different about Virgil. Something he could use to fuel his dislike, to explain it away. A dislike that apparently was a crush in disguise and maybe Roman should have listened to Patton. His friend was good when it came to matters of the heart. He knew how Roman felt, sometimes even better than Roman himself did. 

At least Patton still hadn’t pressed him on what had happened at night, not beyond needing to know anything Virgil might have said or done after Roman had ‘found’ him slumped against a wall. 

He had accepted that it wasn’t Roman’s story to tell and Roman loved his best friend more and more. He really didn’t deserve such a kind and caring friend, someone who would drop anything and go and look after a near stranger without demanding every detail. Roman doubted he would have been so good. Not that he was cruel but he was curious. 

To simply help without the full story - Roman couldn’t understand it. He needed to know everything. That was what had gotten him into this mess in the first place. Well, he knew now. The next thing to focus on was Virgil waking up. And then what they were going to do about it after. 

There was a tug on Roman’s coat; Patton. He lifted his eyes up to meet his friend’s gaze.

“Roman,” Patton began, “I would love to stay but-”

“I know,” Roman interrupted, swallowing. Patton had a shift at the hospital. Roman couldn’t take up any more of his time, not when all Virgil needed was peace and quiet. You didn’t need a doctor or nurse to make sure you slept. Roman could see to that. 

“I’m glad you called me kiddo,” Patton told him softly, kindly. “And you did good bringing him home. I know he’s not your favorite person but you went above and beyond to look after him.” 

“Yeah... I was wrong about him Pat,” Roman confessed. The words felt heavy in his mouth and it was a struggle to speak around the lump that was forming in his throat but he pushed on. This was something important and while Patton wasn’t the only person he needed to admit this to - or even the most important - it still mattered. Roman had to explain himself to some degree. He had to make things right. Start to make things right. 

“Oh?” Patton paused, one arm in his coat, the other flapping free. 

“All this time, calling him a demon and I think... I kinda think he’s an angel after all,” Roman admitted. He could feel a small blush forming on his cheeks at the words, his mind unwittingly rewinding back to the fight in the alley. The grace and power he had witnessed there. There was nothing demonic about Virgil, nothing evil. He was _good_. A hero. 

If anything, Roman was the villian for unjustly accusing him of that for so long. At least his... obsession? Desire for the truth? Whatever it was that had compelled Roman to follow Virgil night after night, it had helped in the end. If it hadn’t been for Roman, Virgil might still be lying in that alley.

Or worse. 

He swallowed down the noise that wanted to slip free at the memory of Lucia’s cold eyes, how she had looked around for him like prey. How she would have no doubt have taken great delight in finding Roman. Or, if not her, since she had been out cold too, then Rubes. Who knew what that ungrateful woman might have done to him. Who she might have led to him. 

Patton simply beamed brightly. That was one good thing about being considered the dramatic one of the friend group - he could say such over the top things like that and have them believe he was simply speaking metaphorically. Instead, Roman was half saying the literal truth. Powers of the kind that he had seen Virgil use weren’t normal. It wasn't _natural_. If that was the case, and he wasn’t a demon, then what else did that leave but an angel?

Something otherworldly but amazing.

“Proud of you kiddo.” Patton said. He had finished pulling his coat on in between blinks, bundled up warm for his walk to work. “Keep me updated, if he’s no different by the time I get off shift, call me, I’ll come back and we’ll... take it from there.”

“Okay Patton. Thank you, again.” Roman couldn’t even begin to thank Patton in the way he wanted and needed to. He was going to have to do something for his friend, a part of his mind already mentally going through various lists, searching for something he could send to him. Roman had a friend who owed him a favour, he could probably arrange to have those poppy seed muffins that Patton adored freshly delivered to his door as his shift ended. 

“Anytime. You take care of him.” 

Roman walked Patton to the door, giving his friend one last smile as he closed it. It felt... strange, to be standing in this direction, staring at a closed door. Everything in Virgil’s apartment was mirrored compared to his own. Right was left, up was down. Roman only wished he could use that to explain why he felt out of sorts. It might be part of it, but it wasn’t the main reason.

He was an intruder here, an unwelcome stranger. Roman had no illusions about what Virgil thought of him - and in light of recent revelations, he couldn’t say he blamed him - and he knew that he was quite possibly the last person Virgil would have ever wanted in his home. Yet here he was. Roman sighed and rocked his head forward against the door. For just a moment, he allowed himself to indulge in his feelings. To wallow in the uncertainty and guilt. 

Just for a moment.

Then Roman straightened himself up with another sigh and lifted a hand to latch the door shut. It was time to get back to the job at hand. He couldn’t afford to linger in those feelings, no matter how satisfying they were. For many reasons - not least because they weren’t actually healthy. But they weren’t helping Virgil either. His neighbour didn’t need Roman moping about, caught up in the past. Virgil needed him to make sure that he was okay. And that was exactly what Roman was going to do.

He moved quietly back into the mirrored living room, before stumbling to a stop, feet almost falling over themselves as he took in the figure half sat up, back pressed against the couch. Virgil was awake.

Virgil was... _awake_.

Roman didn’t bother to hide the delighted smile that broke across his features. Relief hummed in his veins like some kind of drug. He hadn’t messed up. Roman had made the right choice in bringing him home and calling Patton. That was a delight, matched only by the fact that Virgil was actually okay. Roman took a single step towards him without thinking. Virgil recoiled, slamming his back even harder against the couch, his whole frame tense and trembling.

It was enough to make Roman stop and lift both his hands up in what he hoped was a calming gesture. Virgil didn’t look particularly calmed by it. In fact, Virgil was staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. He hadn’t looked scared in the alley. Even during the worst of the fight, he hadn’t seemed scared. Determined, worried, even a little tired yes. But he had never seemed _scared_. 

Roman hated that he had brought such an emotion to Virgil’s face. He couldn’t help but feel a little guilty as well, and Roman knew he wasn’t exactly Virgil’s friend. And he knew that Virgil probably hated the thought of him being in his apartment, seeing him weak. If there was one thing he had known about Virgil before tonight, it had been that he feared showing any vulnerability. 

All of that couldn’t explain the terror Roman could see dancing in Virgil’s expressive eyes. Surely the sight of Roman couldn’t inspire that much fear? 

How had he never noticed how vivid they were? How alive? Everything he was feeling was shining in them, even from this distance. They were beautiful. The thought was a lot easier to handle now that he knew how wrong he had been. How that obsessive hunt for the truth had revealed someone who was good and kind. Someone who deserved so much better than Roman’s baseless accusations or the way Rubes had reacted in the alley towards him.

“Virgil, you’re awake.” Roman couldn’t help but wince at his own words, at how stupid they were. How obvious that of course he knew he was awake. If there was one thing Virgil could be sure of, it was that he was awake. It was a idiotic thing to say. 

The expected retort never came. It was another thing that was very wrong with the situation, another thing that Roman hated. Virgil never missed an opportunity to insult him, and that made Roman’s heart race faster in what he wished was a repressed crush. It was just worry though. Plain, old fashioned, impossible to wrap up any other way, worry. 

“Who did you tell?” Virgil asked at last. His voice sounded small and strained. Roman blinked a couple of times, thrown by the question and out of everything he had imagined Virgil might say or do, it hadn’t been that. Unless... of course, he must have woken up as Roman was saying goodbye to Patton and closing the door. He wanted to know who had been in his home, no wonder he was scared. Roman would have been freaked out to wake up and realise there had been a stranger in his apartment. 

“What? Oh, that was Patton, you remember my friend? He works in the hospital, so I asked him to come over to check you out. He says you’re okay, just worn out. Rest but nothing is broken or bruised. Somehow.” Roman swallowed down the questions that wanted to spill out of him and it wasn’t the time to be questioning Virgil on the final details of how his powers worked. There would be time enough for that later. 

“And... who else?” Virgil asked slowly. His gaze was hard, guarded. It wasn’t the sort of look that Roman wanted from him. Especially since Roman had technically saved him. He had been the hero to Virgil’s distress. And yet Virgil was acting as ungrateful as Rubes from the alley. It made no sense. Just like his obsession with the idea that Roman might have told someone. Roman knew he was loud and boisterous, that he adored to talk - but this wasn’t his story to tell. Not to mention he had been slightly preoccupied by the worry that Virgil might not wake up.

“Nobody?” Roman replied, bewildered. His answer didn’t seem to satisfy the other man. 

“Oh come on Roman.” Virgil looked away and gave a short, un-amused bark that could only charitably be described as a laugh. Even then, the only reason Roman was willing to call it that was because he had heard his brother make similar sounds and claim it was mirth.

It wasn’t funny when Remus did it. Just as it wasn’t funny now when Virgil did it. 

“I’m way too weak to stop you, and you know where I live... unless you’re going to give me that chance?” Virgil suddenly looked back, expression melting into one of hope. He pushed himself up and off the couch, wobbling violently. Roman felt his own body sway forward before jerking it backwards. Virgil had already reacted with fear to him trying to get close. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. 

Virgil looked as if he was one wrong gust of wind away from folding back up and toppling down. Roman doubted he would be able to get to him in time if that happened. His arms itched to be allowed to lift, to try and offer some kind of support. 

A support that Roman knew without a fraction of a doubt, would be rejected and would only make whatever this conversation was, a whole lot worse.

“Just... give me twenty four hours? I’ll pack up my bags, I’ll get my stuff, I’ll be gone and you never have to deal with me again. Just like you’ve always wanted right? Just... please. Roman, please, I don’t hurt people, I don’t do bad, just give me a head start?” Virgil’s pleading crashed into him with the force of a hurricane, and while Roman still didn’t understand the meaning behind it, what he did understand was that Virgil was offering to leave.

His heart contracted painfully at the idea, his panic at the thought overriding anything else that might have gone on in his head. Roman couldn’t focus on anything beside the suddenly awful thought that Virgil might walk out of his life.

Roman knew that he had behaved terribly towards Virgil, and that the other man probably disliked him in return because of it. He knew that there was no reason why Virgil would want to be his friend, let alone anything more but the idea of losing him... of being without him, now that Roman had finally realised what he had been feeling all this time. 

He couldn’t handle that. 

“I don’t want you to leave,” Roman whispered, voice stolen by his terror. He took another step forward without thinking, feeling as thought if he endured another second of forced inactivity, it’d kill him. He needed to prove himself, to do something beyond just standing there like a statue. Roman had to do something in order to make Virgil realise that he wanted to change. That he was sorry - oh, he was so sorry.

Except he hadn’t... actually said that, had he.

Virgil had launched right into his questions and his pleading, without giving Roman a chance to explain himself in turn. Roman had so much he wanted and needed to say, and it was stupid of him to think that Virgil could mangically see inside of his head, and know how much he had realised. Virgil slumped back into the couch, dejected. Every inch of him looked defeated, beaten down. It was yet another sight that Roman wished he hadn’t seen and hated that it was now burned into his memory. 

“So, back to the original question. Who did you tell? Who's coming for me? Cops? FBI? God, tell me you didn’t phone _scientists_.”

An awful truth was beginning to dawn on Roman. Something so horrendous that he struggled to put it into words. Virgil thought... Virgil expected... he believed...

“You think I’ve ratted you out?” Roman asked in shock. 

The idea hadn’t even occurred to him. Not just when it came to Virgil. Roman hadn’t thought about contacting anyone in power in order to warn them about Lucia, to give details about what she could do. He certainly hadn’t thought about telling anyone about Virgil’s powers. Roman had seen more than one movie with superheroes. He knew how much of a bad idea it was to tell the powers that be, who someone was. 

“Haven’t you?” Virgil challenged.

“No!” Roman explained forcefully. He took another step forward and then another, right until he was next to the couch. Roman wasn’t thinking. Nor was he focusing on how Virgil had flinched against sudden movement mere seconds before. All he wanted was to explain himself. To finally explain and to make Virgil believe that he wasn’t that sort of person. If nothing else, even if Virgil still hated him, Roman had to make him understand that Roman would never betray his secrets. 

“Virgil I would never! I know... we didn’t get off on the best foot. And then we kept not getting off on the best foot. And I was not a prince to you, I should have treated you with more honour, should have offered you the benefit of the doubt rather than assuming that you were up to some nefarious purpose. But I swear on _Disney_ , I would never betray anyone like that. Especially you.” Roman dropped down on his knees so that he was level with Virgil, so he could meet his gaze head on in which Roman only hoped was a steady and honest look. Hand pressed against his heart, digging into his chest so that he could feel the pressure of his weight against himself. It helped ground Roman, gave him something else to focus on beyond the pain of this moment. 

“I... you really didn’t tell?” Virgil seemed far too surprised and it made Roman’s heart hurt to realise how shocked the other man really was. “But.. I’m a freak?”

“A freak? A freak!” Roman would not stand - kneel - for that. No way. It helped a fraction, to think that perhaps Virgil’s shock was less that Roman hadn’t betrayed him and more just general, someone knew and hadn’t. It hurt a lot more though, to know that Virgil had such a low opinion of people. Born out of fear but from Rubes reaction, also out of experience.

“You are nothing of the sort my dark and stormy knight! You merely have a gift! And the fact that you are willing to use that to help people, despite your belief that they would hurt you if the roles were reversed... that makes you the bravest person I know. Certainly not a freak.” 

“Hardly bravery. I just... do what anyone would do,” Virgil muttered. He looked down at his hands as he spoke, fingers twitching and twisting, curling around the blanket that Patton had carefully placed over him. It was thick, luxurious and Roman’s. He really hoped Virgil wouldn’t question it - Roman hadn’t thought much of the thin blankets that littered Virgil’s apartment. Although there had been a great number of them. Roman had collected one of his best from his own bed, draping it over the sleeping Virgil while Patton had checked him out. 

Fingers paused in their twitching, Virgil’s breath hitching in his throat. Then he exhaled again, his hands continuing their exploration of the blanket. The moment - whatever it was - seemed to pass, and it gave Roman the courage to speak once more.

“Not everyone,” Roman replied. “Very few in fact. You had a good heart Virgil, that’s why you go out there and risk everything, you fight and you struggle to look after people you don’t know. You’re a good person.” 

“Dude you’ve been stalking me for months, with the exact opposite theory in your head.” Virgil gave a small little laugh, his eyes still firmly fixed on the blanket. “I know exactly what you really think of me Roman and it’s not that I’m a good person.”

“I was wrong,” Roman said simply. The three little words were enough to make Virgil’s eyes jerk back up to meet his gaze once more, wide and surprised. “I merely looked at the surface, I got so... caught up in things that I refused to explore any detail. You inspired such a rush of feelings within me and I am ashamed to say that I latched onto the negative ones and pushed the rest away.”

“What.... what sort of feelings were positive?” Virgil asked in curiosity. Roman felt his own breath catch in his throat, slipping into an awkward cough as he tried to speak and force an exhale all at once.

“I’m, ah.... still figuring that all out.” 

“Okay.” Thankfully, Virgil seemed to accept his words without pushing any further. It was a cowardly thing to do, to deflect and distract, but Roman was still reeling from the realisation of what it meant. This was the first conversation the two of them had shared that wasn’t filled with bitterness. Roman wasn’t ready for it to become a fight just yet. Or worse, for him to blurt out his feelings, only to find that Virgil - unsurprisingly - didn’t share them. Then it would just be awkward and awful. 

Of course, Roman also accepted his own, impulsive nature. Now that he knew what he really felt, he wouldn’t be able to contain it for long. A few minutes without admitting it would probably be the best they would get. 

“You know how annoying it was to have to add extra time to my patrol in order to make sure I’d lost you?” Virgil offered Roman a tiny smile as he spoke, words hesitant and soft. As if he was feeling his way through them and carefully selecting which ones he wanted to use. 

“Ah... you... noticed that.” Roman couldn’t help but give an awkward little cough and sure, he had thought that Virgil had noticed. Still, there was a difference between a theory and actually hearing it said out loud. Roman had sort of hoped that it could remain an unspoken truth between them. But it was a good thing that he had followed Virgil! If he hadn’t, who knew what would have happened tonight.

So long as he kept repeating that, reminding himself of that, then Roman could face him and continue the conversation.

“Roman, you’ve... not exactly subtle. I mean, it's sweet you tried. I guess. And there were plenty of times when I either didn’t notice at first or thought I had lost you only to realise you were still there. You’re... endearingly stubborn, you know that right?” 

“Endearingly?” Roman’s ears pricked up, and he couldn’t help but feel a little bit of hope flutter in his chest at that word. Maybe Virgil didn’t hate him after all. Maybe there was still a chance for Roman to make up for all the terrible mistakes he had made when it came to the two of them. 

“Slip of the tongue. I meant to say, _annoyingly_.” There wasn’t any real heat to Virgil’s words, certainly not compared to the usual back and forth they had. It was a small thing, a single word and yet Roman was ready to leap on it as though it was the answer to all of his prayers. Virgil found him endearing. That had to be a good sign. Virgil was also blushing a little, a hint of pink in cheeks that had seemed all too pale before now. It was best not to draw too much attention to it, not while their... whatever they were becoming, was still so fragile. Roman was still weary of being thrown out. He wasn’t sure he’d get back in - to the apartment, to Virgil’s life in general - if this conversation became a shouting match and he was forced to leave. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Roman replied, giving a dismissive little wave. He wasn’t getting past the word ‘endearingly’ any time soon. Virgil might claim it was an accident but he knew better. He knew by the lack of fire in Virgil’s voice. He knew by the groan and the way Virgil lifted his hands to his face instead of throwing him out. He knew because his heart was optimistic and it saw romance and fairy tale endings wherever he went. He knew because Virgil was slightly uncomfortable instead of upset, and Roman had to do something to take the attention away from that word.

He might be holding it tightly to his chest, a cherished first step in a brave new world, but Roman wasn’t a monster. It was obvious that Virgil didn’t want to think about it. 

“You didn’t notice me following you tonight.” Roman’s mouth worked without thought, falling back on the precious topic to try and distract them both. Virgil, thankfully, didn’t appear too annoyed by his words. He looked back up, hands falling back to the blanket, a half hearted scowl on his face. 

“I was tired. I thought I’d lost you earlier. Should have checked, but what can you do?”

“So Patton said. He’s worried about you. So am I. You’re not sleeping, you’re not eating if your body is any indication. You go out every night apparently to fight crime and you come back with bruises that okay, heal in a freakishly fast amount of time but still have to hurt in the first place.” 

“I’m fi-”

“Don’t you _dare_ say you’re fine,” Roman interrupted. Vaguely, he was aware that he was still on his knees, a somewhat uncomfortable position to be in. He was also aware that he had no right to demand anything, to try and force this conversation, but Roman couldn’t just stand - kneel - and let Virgil wave away all the damage he was causing himself with a casual ‘I’m fine’. Virgil _wasn’t_ fine. 

Maybe that was how he had been able to survive up till now, apparently on his own. But Virgil wasn’t on his own anymore, not if he let Roman in. Patton would help without question as well, Roman knew that without having to ask. They might have to let Patton into the secret if he was called to patch up Virgil one too many times, but Patton wouldn’t tell. Roman wouldn’t tell. He wanted to help and that meant showing Virgil that it was okay for him to lean a little. To let someone else support him.

“No,” Virgil agreed after a short pause. “I guess I’m not.” He gave a heavy sigh, something that sounded more like air escaping a punctured tire than actual breathing. Roman waited. He wasn’t the best at being patient, but this was important. This was something he needed to hear and if it meant waiting, then that was what Roman was going to do. It was agony to bite his tongue and keep the peace, but he was quickly coming to realise that when it came to Virgil, it was worth pushing himself to those limits. 

“I just... my body burns through calories fast. I could eat like a king every day and I’d still be skinny. Add to that the added boost it uses when it has to heal me... I can’t keep up with it. Not much I can do about it either.”

It was probably a good thing Patton wasn’t here to hear that. Virgil had been through a lot recently and the last thing he needed was Patton in full papa bear mode. Or maybe it was the other way around. Maybe it was a bad thing and that was exactly what Virgil needed. Patton would take those words as a challenge, and Roman was inspired to do the same. Virgil needed food? Virgil was going to get food. He was going to realise that he could have enough and he was going to get healthy. Roman silently promised himself that, and no matter what, he was going to make it his mission to ensure that the emo got more food into him.

A challenge he would start in the morning. After Patton had finished work, so that the two of them could work out how best to double team Virgil. He would probably think it was pity or charity if Roman tried on his own, when it was nothing of the sort. Patton was better at that sort of thing. Roman knew with an almost childlike belief, that Patton would have the right words to explain the explosion of feeling and determination that had risen in Roman’s chest at the thought of Virgil not having enough to eat.

That was one mystery answered. There were still about twenty thousand left to go.

“So what’s up with you and Lucia?” Roman asked. Just saying her name made his skin crawl and from the shudder of revulsion that swept across Virgil’s body, it was clear he felt the same. 

“Oh... you heard our conversation? I’ve been fighting her since... eh. I can’t even remember now. She was the first super powered person I actually fought with. Before her, I’d just stopped low level thugs, tried to protect people and the like. I guess someone had to have reported me to her boss, because the next night, there she was. We’ve been battling ever since. I’ve gotten her arrested maybe three times? She only went to jail once though, and even then, she was out within six months. Society really sucks.”

Roman turned the words over in his mind. It was by far the most he had ever heard Virgil say in one go, but all he could focus on was the general meaning of the words. On what Virgil hadn’t said over what he had.

“She’s your arch nemesis?” Roman didn’t mean for his voice to sound as hurt as he did. Virgil was a hero, he was busy doing all sorts of things. The weird little connection the two of them had was not the most important part of Virgil’s life 

“Only at night,” Virgil replied. There was a mischievous spark in his eyes, a warmth that made Roman want to smile back. It was easy to smile and so he did, hoping that Virgil could see the warmth was real in it. That it wasn’t just his usual cocky smile, but it was yet another piece of proof that Roman wanted to change their relationship.

“Night eh?” Roman said. “So, what, she’s your back up nemesis?” 

“Part time nemesis at best. I promise, I’m not cheating on you, you’re still my main guy.”

“I don’t want to be your nemesis anymore, but I’d still like the other part.” Roman’s mouth moved once more independently of his mind, scrambling to reply. There was a lot of meaning he could take away from Virgil’s words, but just as with his speech about his past with Lucia, Roman’s brain had decided to focus on one thing and one thing alone. The fear that Virgil might not want Roman in his life if they weren’t doing their weird nemesis dance. 

Virgil blushed and looked away, as though suddenly realising how the conversation had to sound to someone else. Roman could feel his own cheeks redden but he stubbornly refused to back down, to look away. That would no doubt create an even worst of an impression than he already was. Yet another thing that Roman needed to fix. 

“I mean. _Friends_. I’d like us to be friends.” Roman rushed out the words, silently cursing himself as he did. This new situation was still so fragile, so uncertain. It was just like him to wade in without thinking, and crash around with his unsubtle words 

It was a lie. He didn’t want to be friends. Not just friends. 

Already lying to Virgil. It wasn’t the most auspicious start to what Roman hoped would be a wonderful relationship - whatever it did turn out to be, romantic or platonic. It wasn’t what he wanted for the two of them and Roman needed to do better. Be most honest. It was hard though, harder than he could have ever expected. When it came to Virgil, everything seemed to be harder, but Roman knew that only proved it was worth it. 

Virgil seemed to sense that there was something else unsaid, his eyebrows furrowing a little. 

They lapsed into uncomfortable silence. Roman wasn’t used to being in a situation like this. He always knew the right thing to say. And on the very rare occasions where he might be less certain, he always at least knew something to say. This conversation with Virgil wasn’t going like any he had ever experienced before. Roman didn’t put his foot in it, didn’t say things which sounded so suggestive to an outside ear. He didn’t act like this... and yet he had. There was something about Virgil that threw all the rules out of the window. 

“Thanks for the pizza.” The words came out of the blue, Roman’s eyes widening a little. 

“How did you know it was me?” Roman had been so careful! He had done everything he could to make sure that it remained a secret. Not that he was too upset that Virgil knew now but it was the principle of the thing! Roman had wanted to keep it a secret.

Virgil gave him a completely unimpressed look. It was strange, being able to meet his gaze almost head on, instead of having to tilt his head down. Strange but nice. It made Roman wonder what it would be like if Virgil was standing and he had to peer upwards. Roman wanted to see Virgil from every possible angle, every possible expression.

Even if right now, the one on his face wasn’t exactly positive. 

“You’re kidding right? You had the food delivered. Your address was on the side of the box Roman. Along with your name.”

“Ah.” Roman could feel his cheeks redden once more and he hadn’t blushed this much since his first date. That had been a long time ago now. Virgil made everything feel new again, as if this was the first time for anything. First time talking to a boy he liked, first time trying to flirt. First time having to deal with an embarrassing moment. 

That explained why Virgil had spent so long staring at the box and then had lifted his head to scowl at the door. 

God, Virgil had to think he was such a _moron_. How could he have forgotten to take the label off? 

“Thanks. It was... good of you. I needed it, I’m glad I- glad I trusted you,” Virgil said, words a little jumbled up and messy. He squirmed a little on the couch, somehow managing to look the more uncomfortable of the two. Considering that Roman was _still_ on his knees - a fact his knees had started to scream at him about - that really was saying something. 

The hopeful feeling blossomed ever brighter in his chest. That was true, wasn’t it. The pizza took on even more significance because Virgil had known and yet had still decided to eat it. He had trusted that Roman hadn’t done anything awful to it. Not only had he eaten half, but Virgil had saved the rest. His fertile brain could conjure up all kinds of reasons as to why he might have done that - spite, desperation, the works. Roman prepared to hold onto the positive feelings though, to let his innate optimism shine through. 

“I like you,” Roman blurted out and there it was. No more lies, no more dancing around the subject. If anything, it was amazing that Roman had managed to last the whole ten or so minutes since Virgil had woken up. He knew it wasn’t the best time to admit such things. Roman was too impulsive, too forward. He rushed ahead like water flowing over a waterfall and crashing down to the rocks below when he should float more serenely.

How could he hold back when his feelings wanted to explode from his chest? When he wanted so much and didn’t know if there could be a chance?

“I don't hate you Ro,” Virgil replied. Far too easily for him to really understand what Roman had meant by his words. “You helped when you didn’t need to and you’re keeping my secret. I misjudged you.”

“No I mean... I really like you. It’s no excuse for my behaviour, in fact it makes my actions even worse. I think I liked you from the start and my reaction was childish and immature. I couldn’t allow myself to admit how I felt because....” Roman trailed off and lifted a hand to rush it through his hair. For once he didn’t care that the locks were less than perfect. It was hard to find the energy to care about anything beside the words he was saying. 

“I don’t even know why. I decided because you were... you, because you liked things I didn’t like and dressed how I didn’t dress that any of my feelings had to be negative. I thought about you a lot but I funneled that into something wrong. Patton told me that it was actually because I liked you, but I didn’t listen. I should have listened, he was able to work out what was going on in my head so much faster than I could.” 

“Patton’s good at things like that,” Virgil squeaked out. Roman didn’t dare look at him. It was cowardly of Roman, he knew that. Roman should be looking him directly in the eye, maybe even taking one of his hands as he plead his case, to try and make Virgil see how serious he was. And he was. Right now, kneeling beside the couch, examining where the legs met the carpet, Roman realised just how serious he was. How important this was. As much as he wanted to look up at him, Roman knew he couldn’t. Not until he had finished confessing. 

“And then I lied to you, just now in fact. Saying I just wanted to be friends. I do! But I shouldn’t have lied, shouldn’t have said that was all I wanted or all I hoped. I don’t want to pressure you Virgil, god knows you should hate me for everything I did. But I need to be honest now and I jus-”

“Shut up.” Virgil interrupted sharply. Roman’s mouth snapped close with an audible click. He could feel his whole body shrink a little, hands curling into loose fists. It was for the best then, it seemed, that he hadn’t had the nerve to look up at him. At least Roman didn’t have to see the disgust or hurt in Virgil's eyes. What had he been thinking, confessing his feelings so soon? Pushing and prodding where he had no right to be. Now he had ruined everything and lost Virgil before he could even have the honour of his company. 

“Get off the floor already. Your knees have to be killing you.” Virgil’s voice was still sharp, cutting. The words didn’t seem to match the tone though. Unless it was Virgil’s way of kicking him out? That didn’t sound like the emo though, he was brave and stubborn. Short and to the point. If he wanted Roman to leave, he would have surely just said it. 

Awkwardly, Roman pushed himself up and off his knees, clambering gracelessly to his feet. Roman kept his eyes lowered and he couldn’t find the courage he needed. The answers were right in front of him, shining in Virgil’s eyes but he was too afraid to see what they said. Too afraid to be told that he had messed up without any chance of saving it. 

He brushed absently at the fabric covering his knees, flicking away dust and grime that wasn’t there. Roman wasn’t sure what he was meant to do now. It was a familiar feeling from this night but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with. If anything, it made it harder. It stretched on and on, and Roman didn’t know what _to do_. 

“Now you’re making my apartment untidy. Sit down,” Virgil ordered. He shifted a little as he spoke, drawing the blanket closer around him even as Roman finally lifted his gaze. Leaving a gap clear for Roman to sit down if he wanted. As he was told to. Sit down... next to Virgil.

That was the opposite of being kicked out.

It was still a mystery what was going on, but things were progressing in a far more positive way than he had first feared. Roman swallowed down the millions of words that wanted to burst free as he settled gingerly on the couch next to him. Whatever was going on here, he had to let Virgil set the pace. It was the least he could do after forcing this whole situation on him in the first place. 

“Roman... you’re not the... _absolute_ worst.” Virgil wasn’t looking at him as he spoke. With almost painful slowness, he reached out, one pale hand curling around Roman’s own, fingers entwined together. 

Roman blinked a couple of times and then grinned, a bright, brilliant smile spreading across his features. Not the worst. Sitting next to him instead of on the floor. _Hand_ holding. He could more than work with this. 

“Am I your, not-the-absolute-worst?” Roman was well aware that the sentence on its own didn’t make much sense. It didn’t need to make sense for the world at large. Virgil would understand and that was what mattered. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Virgil’s cheek and the pale red of a blush. It looked undeniably cute on him.

Something he should probably not mention. Not right now anyway. But soon. Roman held the fond thought close to his chest, watching the other man with a soft, almost awed smile.

“Yeah. I guess you are.” 

Roman wanted to leap off the couch. Wanted to pull Virgil up with him, spin him around and kiss. Wanted to shout from the rooftops that he had - it seemed - a boyfriend. The best sort of boyfriend. Virgil had hunched himself over further, almost curling into himself. As if he expected such a loud reaction, or worse, a negative one. He hadn’t pulled his hand away though. That took so much bravery and Roman could feel himself fall that little bit more. Now that he allowed himself to actually acknowledge the feelings within, it was obvious that he had been falling for Virgil for quite a while now. The ground showed no signs of appearing, and he was just in endless free fall.

Roman swallowed down those impulsive, romantic gestures. There would be time enough for those later. It was far more important that Virgil got some rest, got some food in him before Roman started serenading him and wooing him as his dark shadow love deserved. 

There was one other pressing matter though, one that couldn’t wait. Roman smiled and shifted on the couch, turning so he could face Virgil. Carefully, he lifted their joined hands, brushing the softest kiss against Virgil’s knuckles. The sharp intake of breath and the way Virgil’s pupils dilated at the contact made Roman shiver a little in pleasure. He could get used to this. But there was still that important question, one that refused to go away. 

“Hey, can I be your sidekick?”

_~fin~_


End file.
